Connecting with God through poetic articulations of lived, embodied experience–engaging texts from the Revised Common Lectionary for Christian churches, other biblical and spiritual texts, and evocations of the divine in rituals and other public events–always accepting lived reality as a primary source of divine revelation and mystery.

Psalm 100

Reflection on Proper 6, 2nd Sunday after Pentecost, Year A

Textual foci: Matthew 9:35-10:23; Psalm 100; Romans 5:1-8Click here for biblical textsSunday morning at the Metro Station pleasant people staff stations for sharing the truth they claim, they know, will set us free pamphlets, magazines, personal testimony and smiles, handshakes, even hugs too to show the love of God in case we don’t know it already and to be sure our belief is correct so when Jesus comes, when Jesus comes, we are counted worthy.

They smile and say “Good Morning” as I pass clerical color and dangly earrings marking me a man different from others as I smile too—the politeness of our exchange linking us strangely with the One who was often impolite, or at least impolitic, healing the wrong people on the wrong day breaking bread with the disreputable loving sinners as much as the pious— or maybe more—the One with big plans for his twelve just as he has for us, compassion to share with the lost, curing disease, healing the sick in body and heart, guiding sheep who lose our way.

Yes we are the sheep called also to be shepherds—there always is someone who needs leading to water or food or medical care or encouraging words like those some give my friend Tyrone the Pennyman at this same station but not on Sunday. He does not sit in his usual spot to call out “Pennies, pennies, pennies,” to busy travelers on the Lord’s Day, we being fewer in number (why is church attendance declining now?) and perhaps more intent on filling the collection plate than the stomach of one with few teeth, many rags and unkempt hair— yet in his cheerful countenance reminds me of St. Paul who says suffering produces endurance and endurance produces character and character produces hope.

I just pray Tyrone’s hope does not disappoint him and others who struggle in like manner, that somehow divine love moves enough sheep, and shepherds too, you and me among them, to help the lowly rise that all may make a joyful noise and worship God with joy.